


play the game by putting on the brakes

by itsactuallycorrine



Category: Crazy Ex-Girlfriend (TV)
Genre: F/F, Friends to Lovers, Mild Smut, Past Relationship(s), Valencia-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-07
Updated: 2017-01-07
Packaged: 2018-09-15 09:32:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9228902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsactuallycorrine/pseuds/itsactuallycorrine
Summary: It is a truth, universally acknowledged, that everyone wants to have sex with Valencia. Until Heather doesn't. Well, it isn't so much that Heather doesn't, as it is she thinks Valencia doesn't feel the same way.It's up to Valencia to figure out if she does. (spoilers: she does)





	

**Author's Note:**

> ooh, look, a new fandom that I can inflict my Sleater-Kinney titled fics on. 
> 
> special thanks to [Chash](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chash) for looking most of this over for me and helping me figure out what direction I wanted to go in when I was still plotting this monster out.

“This is sad,” Heather says in her direct way as she wipes down the empty stretch of bar to Valencia’s right. The stretch that was previously occupied by a potential one-night mistake until Valencia said something to scare him off. “That’s like the third guy this week you haven’t been able to close the deal with.”

 

Valencia glares and rubs her tongue over the front of her teeth before forcing a tight smile. “I’m aware, but thank you for pointing it out.”

 

“And not even cute guys,” Heather continues as if she didn’t even hear, “definitely not close to Josh’s level. And if I’m being honest, you were already too hot for Josh.” She finally notices Valencia’s shock and shrugs. “What? Like you didn’t already know that?”

 

The smile loosens, more natural this time. “No, I did,” Valencia says, “but that’s… oddly sweet that you would say that.”

 

“I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it.”

 

“And that’s what makes it sweet.” Valencia sips the fruity skinny martini Heather had sat in front of her about ten minutes into her disastrous attempt at hitting on some mediocre barfly and tries not to pout. “And you’re right, that guy wasn’t even that good-looking. I think I was just… ”

 

Heather makes a noise of understanding. “Seeking validation from the most eligible male in the proximity. No, I get it. That’s like your whole deal.” Before Valencia can dispute this, Heather fixes wide dark eyes on Valencia and the subtle shift in her expression has Valencia’s mouth going dry. “But if you ever just want someone to tell you how hot you are, just let me know. I don’t have a problem admitting that I find you attractive.”

 

Valencia’s entire body goes hot in a flash, then cold as disappointment settles around her. “Oh. I thought… this always happens, so I don’t know why I’m surprised. I really thought that we were friends. I thought… Never mind. What do I owe you for the drink?”

 

“Whoa, V.” Heather’s eyes go wide as she waves off the question. “No, dude, we are friends. I’m just like putting it out there that if you, you know, need validation or whatever, I’m there for you.” And she smiles a little, the corners of her eyes crinkling, and Valencia unclenches enough to smile back at that.

 

“Okay, good. Sorry to imply that I thought you were, you know…” She watches as Heather’s face goes blank, but presses on, “ _into_ women.”

 

“Wow.” Heather leans back and shakes her head, “One, it’s not an insult to call someone a lesbian or whatever so you don’t need to apologize. And two, I am _into_ women, but clearly you’re not, or if you are, you’re not into the idea with me, and I’m cool with being friends.” For the first time since Valencia has met her, Heather looks a little uncertain.

 

Valencia blinks and tries to wrap her mind around what was just said. “I’m sorry, I guess… I just thought that because you dated Greg and everything-”

 

Head angled to the side, Heather watches her closely. “Yeah, I’m bi. I’ve mostly been with guys in the past, but I’m attracted to women, too.” Her eyes crinkle again in amusement. “Did I just blow your mind?”

 

“Um… No, well, I mean, yes, a little.” Valencia blows out a breath. “That’s… cool,” she says, uncertain of how to react, but Heather just laughs at her, which stings a little. Still, she can’t help but smile. “I don’t… I don’t really know what to say,” she admits, and then goes for honesty, because Heather is always honest with her, but she looks at the bar as she continues, because this entire situations is making her feel more vulnerable than she’d like. “I like that we’re close enough that you feel you can tell me that.”

 

Heather is still smiling when Valencia peeks up at her. “Of course, dude. It’s not a big deal. I hope that you’d tell me something like that if you wanted to.” The moment stretches out, confusingly fraught, before Valencia looks away again, only to turn back when Heather says, “But just to be clear, if you _were_ ever to realize that you wanted something other than friendship from me… you’d have to make the first move.” She points at Valencia’s drink. “Another?”

 

Valencia can only nod while her mind whirls around like a top.

 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 

She would never admit how often she thinks about that conversation, but the floodgates swing wide open from that point forward and she can’t control the flow. Everything Valencia does with Heather, every conversation they share, or drink they get together, or hijinks they talk Rebecca out of - they’re all colored with this… _possibility_.

 

Valencia sees Heather through new eyes now - instead of judging her clothes or hair or body mass index or whatever Past Valencia would do, New Valencia is measuring the width of Heather’s smile when they talk, memorizing the timbre of her laugh, admiring the new bar through her eyebrow and the shape of her silhouette, hidden though it usually is beneath the flannel.

 

She gets distracted by the healthy sheen of Heather’s skin, finding herself daydreaming about offering free yoga sessions to nominally improve Heather’s muscle tone, but would really be an excuse to see that beautiful skin lit up from within after an hour of exertion.

 

She finds herself wondering what it’d be like to kiss a woman, really kiss a woman, not just for attention, and every time she imagines it, it’s always Heather’s lips she’s kissing, Heather’s nose brushing hers, Heather’s cheek against her own.

 

If Heather notices any of this or is feeling something similar, she hides it well. Valencia would be lying if she wasn’t confused - maybe even hurt - by Heather’s normalcy. She wasn’t exaggerating when she once told Rebecca that everyone wanted to have sex with her. But, she comforts herself, it isn’t that Heather _doesn’t_ want to have sex with her; Heather thinks Valencia doesn’t want it.

 

Does she? It’s not a question Valencia has considered before. Once her high school friends all turned on her out of jealousy, she only saw other women as one thing: competition. And Valencia had to be the winner of this unspoken race to be the Ultimate Woman - most beautiful, thinnest, most desirable, best relationship.

 

But ever since Rebecca came to West Covina and shook up Valencia’s entire existence, those goals aren’t enough. They weren’t enough to keep Josh, to keep her heart from being broken. They weren’t enough to make her happy.

 

But her new friendships might, as strange as the thought would have seemed to Past Valencia. And if she’s feeling anything confusing for Heather, it’s probably tied up in the joy of sisterhood, or whatever Rebecca would call it.

 

She tries to ignore the voice that whispers, _if it’s because of friendship, why don’t you have these thoughts about Rebecca?_

 

The truth of the matter, though, is that it becomes enough of a problem that she asks Rebecca out to lunch, just the two of them, to discuss it a bit. Just to see if she’s the only one feeling this way.

 

Rebecca prattles on and on about something to do with her new boss or whatever and Valencia wants to avoid the belligerent sexual tension coming off that whole situation, and blurts out when Rebecca stops for a breath, “Have you ever been with a woman?”

 

Rebecca’s jaw goes slack before her entire face lights up. She presses her lips together, but her blue eyes are shining with glee. “Okay, I know we have some weird history with this type of thing, but honestly I have been waiting for this moment since we met.” She balls up the napkin on her lap and throws it onto the table. “Should I get the check and we can go back to my place and experiment? I’ll get the- Waiter!”

 

Valencia grabs Rebecca’s arm and forcefully lowers it to the table before the waiter can notice her flagging him down. “No. No, Rebecca! I don’t want to experiment. I’m just asking a question.”

 

“Oh,” Rebecca says, pouting a little, but she settles back into her seat and Valencia releases her arm and does the same. “Well, although I can definitely say I’m curious, I haven’t veered too far away from a zero on the ol’ Kinsey scale, if you know what I’m saying.” She must see Valencia’s confusion. “Oh, you don’t under- It’s fine, nevermind. No, I’ve never done anything sexual with a woman. With, you know, the exception of sticking my tongue down your throat in a club.” She squints at Valencia. “Why’d you ask? Are you just taking a survey? Or is it something you’re considering?”

 

“No! I don’t know. Maybe.” Valencia sighs. “I had a conversation recently that made me think about whether that’s something I might be into.”

 

Rebecca nods. “You should talk to Heather, then. She has some actual experience in this-” Valencia must make a face or shift or exhibit some sort of tell, because Rebecca’s face goes slack again before she tilts her head to the side. “Wait… Is it… Are you thinking of _having sex with Heather?_ ” she asks, leaning forward to whisper the last part. “Oh, my God,” she continues, more to herself this time, “I’m going to be the third wheel in my own squad.”

 

Valencia groans, collapsing forward onto the table with her head down. “Feelings are so dumb! I don’t want them anymore.”

 

“Oh, ohhhh, honey!” Rebecca pats Valencia’s head with a soft comforting hand. “You’re actually having feelings? Not just thinking about what she looks like naked?”

 

Valencia sits up and runs a smoothing hand over her hair. “That’s the part that’s confusing me. I’ve never…” She bites her lip, a tide of emotions overcoming her, stinging the back of her eyes. “I’ve never had friends like you guys before. So I don’t know how much of what I’m feeling is friendship and how much is something different.” She sends a pleading look Rebecca’s way. “Aren’t there some kind of shenanigans we could try to figure it out?”

 

“No. Well, I mean, yes, there are. There are actually a lot of tropes that could be used in this situation and it would be refreshing to break from the heteronormative bonds of the media and use them for som- And that’s not the point,” Rebecca says hastily as Valencia feels her eyes glaze over. “You know how Heather is. She said it herself - she prefers direct communication. She would call us out at the first sign of an antic and make you come clean anyway.”

 

“But we could still try it!” Valencia says. “One shenanigan. That’s all I’m asking. A single teeny, tiny one. For the good of the squad, Rebecca!”

 

Rebecca stares at her hard, squares up her jaw, and nods once, decisive. “For the good of the squad.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Rebecca somehow convinces Valencia to leave the scheming up to her, because she didn’t need Valencia “going maverick” on her again, whatever that means. So she did some light pick-pocketing - pick-pursing? - the last time they colluded; big deal. It turned out alright.

 

They were all getting together at Rebecca and Heather’s anyway to weed through Rebecca’s overstuffed closet and drink wine. Valencia is fully expecting to be locked in said closet with Heather or something equally as obvious tonight, but she can’t deny the thrill of anticipation racing up and down her spine.

 

What she is _not_ expecting - and more fool her - is to find Heather and Rebecca standing in a tense tableau in the middle of their living room, one that is only broken as Rebecca swings towards Valencia, her expression a study in horror. “I told Heather everything - like just told her,” she says in a rush, the words nearly indistinguishable, “just a minute ago and I really really think you guys should talk and that I should not be here while you do, so _BYEEEEE!_ ” And with that, she pushes past Valencia and leaves.

 

Just _walks out_ , having lobbed her conversation grenade and leaving Valencia to bear the brunt of the shrapnel.

 

And oh God, _oh God_ , she can feel Heather’s eyes on her, but she’s frozen to the spot, paralyzed by anger and embarrassment and- and _fear_. She is never going to forgive Rebecca for this, she should’ve known better than to befriend someone who is so… so…

 

“Oh, c’mon, V, she meant well,” Heather says, and a new wave of mortification rolls over Valencia as she wonders if she’d been muttering her thoughts aloud or if she’s just that easy to for Heather to read. Either option seems horrible.

 

She somehow manages to unstick her jaw, just enough to get out the words, “I should go-”

 

“No, you shouldn’t.” And suddenly, Heather is there in her space, gently grabbing her arm and moving her to the couch. “Sit and let’s talk.”

 

Valencia follows orders, perching on the edge of the seat, back straight as a board, but she doesn’t know where to start. She’s grateful Heather doesn’t make her and instead sits next to her and says, “It’s really not a big deal.”

 

“It is to me. It’s private and Rebecca had no-” Valencia clamps down on the feeling of betrayal.

 

Heather sighs. “She thought she was doing the right thing.” Valencia laughs, a brittle sound that scrapes at her throat as it emerges. “Okay, she was probably doing the right thing _for Rebecca’s interests_. Not necessarily for yours. It’ll be okay.”

 

“No, it won’t,” Valencia says with force. “I’m- I’m _horrified_ and mad and- and I can’t ever trust her again.”

 

“So what if you’re not sure if what you’re feeling is friendship or sexual attraction? We can figure it out. I’ll help you.”

 

She can feel her face turn redder with shame that Heather would see her as some kind of charity case and the heat of it lights her temper. “What are you gonna do, psychoanalyze me? No, wait, you can’t, because you quit psych just like you quit everything!”

 

Heather, of course, isn’t perturbed, which ratchets up Valencia’s rage that much more. “Okay, not to do the thing you were just mocking me about, but I know this is like misplaced anger for Rebecca and embarrassment, so I’ll let that slide.” She ignores Valencia’s groan. “But, no, I meant like, we try different things and you tell me what you’re experiencing and we’ll classify it: lowercase-f feeling, like what you’d feel for a friend, or capital-F Feeling, like what you’d feel for a sexual partner.”

 

Valencia scoffs, tossing her head. “I’m not your lab rat. So thanks, but no thanks.”

 

“I’m not proposing you’d be my lab rat - for all intents and purposes, we’d be, you know, _together_. We’d also be figuring some stuff out, one experience at a time. It’s not just you, V,” Heather says. “After Greg kind of screwed me over for Rebecca, I haven’t been with anyone else. And I meant what I said before - I think you’re hot and once you got over the whole Josh thing, you’re cool in a kind of ‘aggressively trying to be normal’ kind of way. It’ll be interesting to see what happens when you try something new.”

 

Valencia lets the last of her anger deflate into wariness as she considers this, wrinkling her nose. “Experimentation is one thing, but to actually go into something like an actual experiment? It seems so… clinical. I’m more of a believer in the spiritual arts than science.”

 

“It’s only science if you write it down,” Heather says, like she’s quoting something. Valencia frowns.

 

“Is that true?”

 

Heather rolls her eyes, but she’s smiling. “Joke.”

 

“Oh. Right.”

 

“Look, if it makes you feel better, then I can tell you first if I’m capital-F or lowercase-f feeling it.”

 

Valencia stares into Heather’s eyes, looking for what, she’s not sure, but all she sees is the steadfast invitation. Her heart races as considers her options: leave now and wonder about it all her life or try it and… And what? What will she get from this experience?

 

Then she sees Heather’s gaze drop to where her teeth have started digging into her bottom lip and she recognizes the slight flush on Heather’s cheeks, the one that says clear as day: capital-F Feelings. And she _wants_ it, she needs it, that look on Heather’s face and to have it reflected on her own.

 

She doesn’t stop to think, just leans forward into Heather’s personal space and goes for it. Heather meets her halfway, their lips clinging together, slightly misaligned at first, but they move in sync to adjust, and it’s everything.

 

Valencia takes the lead, kissing Heather’s warm, soft lips again and again, quick and almost chaste, but not. Not entirely chaste, not with the heady feeling of her blood singing and the soft puff of Heather’s breath as they part and the teasing tip of Heather’s tongue against her top lip when they fall back together.

 

Heather pulls back and Valencia opens her eyes, not even realizing how tightly she’d closed them. She’s out of breath, but the kind of out of breath that comes from exhilaration. Heather’s eyes gleam with what Valencia desperately wants to believe is the same giddy excitement. “Capital-F?” Valencia asks, more sure of the answer than she’s been of anything in the past week or so.

 

“Capital-F,” Heather confirms, and they move closer, picking up where they left off. Heather’s hand cups Valencia’s jaw and she has a stray thought about the transfer of bacteria to her flawless face, but it’s gone as soon as Heather’s tongue touches hers.

 

They go up in flames after that, indulging in the kind of making out that Valencia hasn’t done since high school. But she doesn’t even care about the already-growing soreness in her jaw or how chapped her lips will be later. She only cares about Heather, and Heather’s lips, and that they remain always in close proximity to her own.

 

She doesn’t feel any pressure to escalate to anything beyond this, not yet, and Heather must feel the same, because after a while - a _long_ while, granted - their heated, gotta-inhale-each-other-whole kissing tapers off into a tender exchange. Valencia is stunned to realize they’re now lying on the couch, with their hair and legs tangled together, her arms around Heather’s waist to keep her from falling off.

 

“I would say that this was a success,” Heather says, voice a little rough, and Valencia shivers and kisses her again in agreement.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Neither one of them broach the topic of where it goes from there. Valencia assumes Heather doesn’t because she’s a go-with-the-flow kind of person. And Valencia? Valencia has spent the last fifteen years trying to lead Josh where she needs him and she’s _tired_. She’s so tired of being the only one putting in the effort, planning the future, and being disappointed when all her dreams are dashed.

 

And it feels nice for once, the not-knowing. Instead of anxiety and fear, she only feels… light.

 

She texts Heather the next morning, asking her if she wants to grab a drink tonight and doesn’t even stress out when she doesn’t get an immediate reply. She’s not wondering where Heather is and who she’s with. Maybe the difference is that she isn’t in love with Heather or doesn’t really expect this to lead to some kind of future, so she doesn’t feel threatened. But either way, it’s a relief.

 

Her phone chimes as she unlocks the door to her yoga studio and she smiles when she sees it’s from Heather.

 

**Heather** : Can’t, shift tonight

**Heather** : But you could come to home base, keep me company

**Heather** : And stick around after close so I can show you the stockroom

 

Valencia sends a thumbs up and a winky face in reply and walks through the doorway, still smiling.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

They don’t make a conscious choice to keep their arrangement from everyone. Rebecca knows, obviously, given the part she played in getting them together. But Valencia doesn’t feel the need to advertise it to Josh and all his friends or Heather’s coworkers and classmates.

 

Because of this, they’re only together either at Valencia’s apartment, Heather and Rebecca’s place, or at Home Base after hours. It’s fine for the most part - for the first time in her adult life, Valencia doesn’t want to treat a personal relationship like a status symbol - except for the toll it seems to be taking on Rebecca.

 

One night, the three of them watch a movie - some sappy older one about a boy and a girl who are friends and one of them dies tragically young - but Valencia isn’t into it at all. What she is into is the press of Heather’s thigh against hers and the brush of their arms and the simmering sexual tension between them. They haven’t gone much further than kissing yet beyond some light petting and while Valencia is very interested in the kissing, she’s ready for more.

 

As the credits roll, though, Rebecca is still sobbing on the couch and Valencia bites back an impatient sigh. Times like these make her feel nostalgic for when she didn’t have close friends, because friendship is so much _work_. Especially when you’re friends with someone like Rebecca.

 

“Rebecca, you’ve seen this movie like a million times,” Heather says, even while she hands Rebecca a new tissue and pries the remains of a tattered, used-beyond-recognition one from her hands.

 

“I know!” Rebecca wails, her face red. “But it so reflects my life right now. First I lost Greg, then Paula, and now I’m losing you guys, too!”

 

A pang of remorse hits Valencia. She hadn’t really thought much about how her new relationship with Heather might affect anyone else. Granted, that was mostly because no one else knew. But Rebecca did, and Rebecca was the person who brought them together in the first place - not just as what they are now, but as friends first. “Becca, we’re not going anywhere,” Valencia says, moving over to sit on the arm on Rebecca’s other side. “Yeah, things have changed, but we’ll still all be friends.”

 

“You say that, but you can’t promise!” Rebecca sniffles and takes an ineffectual swipe at the snot running down her face. “No matter what, the two of you share something that I can’t be part of. And it’s great! It’s great for you guys. But it- it really sucks for me to be left out.”

 

“If it makes you feel better, you have something in common with each of us that we don’t share.” Valencia and Rebecca turn to Heather in confusion, so she says, “I mean, you and Valencia have both slept with Josh and I haven’t. And you and I have been with Greg, and Valencia hasn’t.”

 

Valencia screws up her face. Honestly, they really need to add some new blood to their small group of acquaintances.

 

But Rebecca turns pensive. “Huh,” she says, calming down a bit while she stares off and contemplates this. She shrugs it away a moment later, but at least her face returns to a normal hue. “Even so, this whole situation or whatever you’re calling it is a bummer for me. I don’t fit into this new dynamic! I thought getting everything out in the open would help, but it’s ruined everything.”

 

A lightbulb flickers over Valencia’s head. “Do you mean- Are you asking us to stop being with each other?” she asks with her heart in her throat, glancing over at Heather, who stares back at her, face blank but eyes stormy and dark.

 

“No,” Rebecca says, voice pitching up at the end to make it more a question, and Valencia can see that Heather doesn’t buy it either. “That would be wrong,” Rebecca continues, not even a little more convincing. “I can’t dictate whether or not you guys should be together.” She yawns, eyelids drooping. “And here comes the post-cry sleepiness. I’ll just.. I’m going to bed. I’ll let you guys talk.”

 

She shuffles out of the room and neither Heather nor Valencia say anything as they head to Heather’s room.

 

Valencia’s mouth is dry, all moisture having apparently gone to her palms. She rubs her hands against the side of her shorts and clears her throat as the door closes behind her. “I was really excited about tonight,” she says, voice low in the darkness, leaning back against the door.

 

The bed groans a bit as Heather sits and leans over to flick on the lamp on her nightstand. “Me, too.” She looks at Valencia with the same conflicted expression as she had in the living room. “What do you want to do?”

 

A parody of a laugh tears from Valencia’s throat. “I don’t think this is about what either of _us_ wants at this point.”

 

“Yes, it is,” Heather says and pats the bed beside her, keeping quiet until Valencia sits, but they don’t face each other, don’t even look at one another. “If we want to, we can tell her to get over it and that our relationship, the two of us, we’re more important than the group.”

 

And Valencia wants to, she aches to, ask, _Is it?_ , but she bites it back for fear of what Heather’s answer would be. So instead she says, “I meant what I said before, I’ve never been good at maintaining female friendships. It’s really important to me that this one doesn’t break up.”

 

Heather stays quiet for a moment. “Okay,” she says, and the resolute tone of her voice makes it seem like it might be, even though it doesn’t feel that way now. “We’ll stop, go back to being friends and nothing more.”

 

Closing her eyes, Valencia swallows hard and she has to ask, because she _was_ really excited for tonight, “Can we still… just tonight? And then tomorrow, we can-”

 

But the rest of her words are lost as Heather seals her mouth over hers.

 

They topple back onto the bed, scooting to the middle, and Valencia breaks their kiss to pull her shirt over her head and get rid of her bra, groaning quietly as one of Heather’s warm hands comes up to cup her breast, thumb pressing on her nipple. She cups the back of Heather’s head and kisses her again, taking her bottom lip between her teeth and exerting enough pressure that Heather swears at her and matches the force with her hand on Valencia’s chest.

 

“Your shirt,” Valencia pants, moving her hands to the hem to start pulling it off Heather’s body, exploring the exposed skin as Heather takes over and pulls it the rest of the way off. She’s eager to touch every inch of the body in front of her, but there’s something she wants even more, pressing their chests together as she kisses Heather deeply, slowly, savoring every slide of Heather’s tongue against her own.

 

Valencia feels the hard press of Heather’s nipples against her and shifts a bit to find her target, undulating her torso to feel her own nipple brush against Heather’s. Heather breaks their kiss and pants a bit, moving to replicate the sensation, and Valencia moans, mouthing Heather’s chin, grazing her teeth against the skin.

 

Heather moves her chest against Valencia’s again and again, and Valencia laughs, a throaty sound she never imagined herself making. “You like that?” she asks, kissing down Heather’s neck and sternum and up the slope of her breast. Heather’s hands tangle in Valencia’s hair and tighten as Valencia takes the tip into her mouth.

 

“Harder,” Heather whispers, and Valencia acquiesces, drawing the bud deep into her mouth and pressing the flat of her tongue against the very peak. Heather loosens one hand’s grip on Valencia’s hair and tries to replicate the pressure against Valencia’s own nipple with her thumb and forefinger, and Valencia nearly goes cross-eyed.

 

“Come here.”

 

Valencia pulls back, letting her tongue brush the tip once, twice, three times, before she moves back up to kiss Heather again. Her hands find the button enclosure on Heather’s shorts, but as she begins to undo it, Heather grabs her wrists. “You’re aggressive tonight.”

 

“I’ve been doing research,” Valencia blurts, feeling her cheeks heat when Heather smiles at her confession. “I don’t know that I’m ready for everything yet, but if tonight is it…”

 

“We don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable. Now that you know you’re into this, you’ve kind of expanded your dating pool.”

 

It crashes over her like a bucket of cold water. Valencia rolls onto her back so they’re side by side and stares up at the ceiling. They’re both quiet for a moment and Valencia sighs and admits, “I don’t want to stop. Doing this stuff with you, I mean.”

 

She feels Heather turn to face her but she keeps her gaze fixed on the ceiling until Heather says, “Okay.”

 

She glances over and it’s just as resolute and twice as easy as when they’d decided the opposite not even an hour before. “Yeah?”

 

“Yeah,” Heather says with a smile. “I like being with you, I like being the one you trust enough to, you know, initiate you into this new part of your life.”

 

Valencia smiles, too. “Good. I thought you might.”

 

That makes Heather laugh a little. “Really? I’m not being too subtle?”

 

“Maybe for some people, but I know where to look.”

 

That wipes the amusement away, leaving a soft tenderness on Heather’s face. “Yeah?” she asks, a little breathless, and Valencia nods, turning on her side and tucking Heather’s hair back over her shoulder.

 

They watch each other quietly for a beat and then Heather smiles again. “So. Tell me about this research. Have you, like, watched _Kissing Jessica Stein_ a million times?”

 

Valencia’s face flushes again, but she shakes her head. “Porn. Like the good kind, with women with short nails and everything.” Heather laughs, but Valencia pulls her closer on the bed, situating her thigh between Heather’s and pressing their torsos back together. “Want to see what I’ve learned?” she asks and Heather answers her with a hungry kiss and the press of her thigh against the apex of Valencia’s legs.

 

They don’t talk again for a while after that, almost until Valencia’s on her way out and they’re trading soft goodbye kisses at the front door in the dark pre-dawn hours.

 

“Oh, good, you’re still here,” Rebecca says and they jump apart. “I’ve been up thinking about this situation and-”

 

“Rebecca, look…” Heather starts, but Valencia stops her with a hand on her arm. It’s better if it comes from her; Heather still has to live with Rebecca.

 

“Becca, we’re not going to stop seeing each other. We know it changes the dynamic and that you’re feeling left out, but Heather and I both want to explore this. Sorry,” she tacks on to the end with a shrug, although more because it seems like she should than because she means it.

 

Rebecca shakes her head. “No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have expected you guys to put your thing on hold because it didn’t include me. I promised myself that I would stop letting my outside relationships define me and then I turned around and built up this whole new identity around being part of this, our girl group. And when that was threatened, I kind of had a meltdown.” She holds out her hands to them, face earnest. “Can you forgive me?”

 

Heather grasps one of Rebecca’s hands first and Valencia follows her lead. “Yeah, it’s fine now. Right, V?” she asks, nudging with her elbow.

 

Valencia nods. “Let’s just move past this.”

 

Rebecca squeals. “Great! Because honestly, I am so curious about what you do-”

 

“No,” Heather says. “No, no. We’re not doing that.”

 

“Oh, come on! If I can’t get a play-by-play from someone, then what’s even the point of my friends being girlfriends?” Rebecca whines.

 

And it should be a tense moment, a scary label that neither one of them had come close to using being thrown out like that, but Heather just tangles the fingers of her free hand with Valencia’s, and it feels like fancy calligraphy with serifs, capital-F _Feelings._

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Valencia waits for The Talk to come, but it doesn’t and she can’t tell if it’s just because Heather takes it for granted that Rebecca did all the defining for them or if it stems from something else. She decides to take Heather’s lead and doesn’t use the words either. At least, not out loud. She finds herself at times thinking _I have to go meet my girlfriend at her job_ or _Wow, my girlfriend is beautiful_ when she catches Heather’s eye during a group hang or _This is my girlfriend_ , in a more incredulous way when Heather tries to talk her into something like kayaking. Kayaking, really?

 

They make it a priority to hang out with Rebecca just as much as they did before. The only difference now is at the end of the night, Valencia usually follows Heather to her room for a couple hours before she leaves.

 

Heather is good about spending time with Valencia one-on-one, too, and not just when they’re getting their grind on, as Rebecca calls it. Valencia talks Heather into trying out yoga, so she can selfishly live out her fantasy of seeing Heather post-session, but she takes to it with surprising ease. She also sticks around after class to nibble on Valencia’s neck and ear.

 

“I’m all gross,” Valencia says, squirming without really breaking contact.

 

“I like it.” Heather hits the spot at the top of Valencia’s jaw that makes her knees go weak and they almost have her entire second class of the day walk in on them with Valencia’s top tucked up around her armpits and her hand down Heather’s yoga pants.

 

Because Heather was so game to try something meaningful to her, Valencia wants to reciprocate and she makes an honest effort - really, she does - to read _The Catcher in the Rye_ in its entirety before telling Heather about it, but… She just can’t do it.

 

“I don’t get it,” she complains as she flops back on her couch next to Heather, limbs splayed dramatically. “I know it’s important to you, but I just can’t get into it.”

 

Heather picks the library book up from where she’d dropped it on the table, reads the title, and grins. “Oh, wow, yeah, I can see how you’d have trouble with this one.” She sobers a little and nudges Valencia’s leg with her bare foot. “That was very sweet of you to, like, make an attempt. But you don’t have to do this.”

 

Valencia huffs and crosses her arms. “I’m smart enough to read Salinger, too, you know.”

 

“Hey.” The foot nudge is more pointed this time and keeps poking her until she looks up. “I know you’re smart. That’s not what I’m saying. I just meant this is a little pretentious for you and kind of like diametrically opposed to your entire worldview.” Heather thinks for a minute. “If you really want to read some Salinger, you could try ‘Franny’, a short story, and _Zooey_ , which is a novella that follows it. A lot of volumes publish them together, and I think it’d be more your speed. A lot of spiritual elements.”

 

They go to the library the next weekend to switch out titles and Heather was right. Valencia’s never been a big reader, so they’re not quite as accessible as she’d like, but she ends up enjoying both stories. She does complain about the excessive use of the word ‘buddy’ in the end of _Zooey_ , though, which makes Heather laugh and start calling her that. And it’s such a little intimacy, that silly nickname, but it gives Valencia a thrill every time.

 

The night they discuss Valencia’s thoughts on the book, they talk for hours on a range of different topics - starting with the standards: music, movies - and moving onto Heather’s experience being Miss Douche, what high school was like for both of them - many of the teachers Valencia had were still there when Heather went through a few years later, how Valencia started teaching yoga, and so on, never running into any awkward pauses. Valencia has never thirsted for conversation as much as she does with Heather. She wants to hear her opinions on everything, she wants to learn new things, and express her own point of view on the world, and to truly listen and know someone is treating her words with the same amount of care.

 

When Heather’s phone sends her a notification and she sees the time, she says, “I guess I should head home,” but as half-hearted as Valencia feels about the prospect.

 

“You could stay,” she offers instead. “It’s silly for you to drive home at this time of night when I’ve got a perfectly good bed in the other room. You know it, you’ve been on it.”

 

Heather smiles. “Are you sure? It’s kind of like a big milestone for some people, the first sleepover.”

 

Valencia pulls up short. “Oh. Uhh, yeah, I guess it is. But it’s not really a big deal, is it?” When Heather doesn’t answer immediately, she panics a little. “I mean, yeah, it is, but not to me. I don’t mind. Unless you mind.”

 

“Do you have a hair tie I can borrow? And maybe a silk scarf?” When Valencia raises an eyebrow at that, Heather huffs out a laugh. “Not for that. Not tonight anyway. But for my hair. I wrap it up sometimes.”

 

Valencia produces the scarf and hair tie and watches in fascination as Heather pulls her hair into a ponytail so high that the curls fall forward and then gently folds it over into a loose bun and wraps the scarf around the back of her head and in front of the hair tie. “I never realized curly hair was so complicated.” Something occurs to her as they settle into bed, curled towards one another on their sides. “Is this why you have satin pillowcases? So you don’t have to use the scarf?”

 

“Yeah, I don’t really love the scarf, because half the time it slides off, but it’ll do,” Heather says with a shrug, like it’s no big deal.

 

But Valencia remembers and when she shows Heather her new satin pillowcases a week later, Heather stays the night again, helping her break them in, and showing her appreciation in a way that makes Valencia smile all throughout the following day.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

After Valencia and Josh broke up, she was overjoyed to realize that she wouldn’t have to pretend to care about any big sports games being broadcast anymore. So it’s ironic that her next relationship tends to revolve around that very thing, since Heather always works those nights. As if it’s not bad enough that Heather is crazy-busy slinging drinks and can’t even flirt with Valencia over the bar, Home Base is packed with nearly everyone they know, too.

 

Rebecca sits at the bar next to Valencia to keep her entertained and it is good to talk, just the two of them. But Valencia can’t help it when she catches a glimpse of Heather out of the corner of her eye and get distracted from the flow of conversation.

 

“Valencia!” Rebecca says, but she looks more amused than upset at the lack of attention. She nods Heather’s way. “So everything’s still good there?”

 

Valencia takes a drink of her cosmo and smiles, but she’s not fooling anyone, least of all Rebecca, who laughs in a dirty way. “Yeah, it is!” Rebecca answers herself. “We’re going to start calling you V for all that vag-”

 

“No, Rebecca!” Heather says, dropping a new bottle of beer down onto the bar and trashing the empty. When Rebecca nods, chastened, Heather smiles and turns to Valencia with a tilt of her head. “Ready for another, buddy?”

 

Hoping her grin doesn’t look as silly as it feels, she shrugs and leans forward. “Are you trying to get me drunk?”

 

Heather gazes at her, eyes dark and deep the same way they are when they’re pressed up against each other, and Valencia bites her lip to keep from lunging across the bar. She doesn’t even realize that she’s halfway off her stool with her foot up in the air until something shatters behind them and she falls back onto her seat.

 

The entire bar turns as one and Valencia’s stomach drops. Josh is standing across the room, broken beer bottle at his feet, as he stares at her. At her and Heather, more specifically.

 

The rest of the patrons return to their food or drinks or the game or some combination of the three, while Hector and WhiJo crane their necks to see what Josh is gawking at and Valencia meets their curious gazes head-on.

 

She can hear Rebecca whipping herself into a lather, but ignores it to glance back at Heather, whose brow is creased in concern. Valencia smiles at her and Heather’s face clears while she grabs a new beer for Josh while one of the other employees sweeps up the shards.

 

Heather hands Josh the beer when he walks up. “No charge on this one,” she says, voice not betraying any of the tension of the situation. “But don’t drop it again.”

 

“You- you guys-” He glares at Heather, then Valencia, and back and forth for another round. “You guys are sleeping with each other?”

 

“Wow, Josh!” Rebecca says in her shrillest voice with a fake laugh to top it off. “You jump to some crazy conclusions!”

 

Josh scowls at her. “I know what I saw. Shrugging,” he says pointedly at Heather, who flinches a little, but he continues, counting off on his fingers, “eye contact, head tilts. Flamingo leg! All of that adds up, right, Heather?”

 

“I mean, yeah,” Heather answers, and shrugs in a kind of “what, it’s true?” way, when Rebecca groans.

 

“Josh, why do you care who I’m sleeping with? We’ve been over for months now.” Valencia watches as he sputters at her.

 

“You’re not even going to deny it?” he demands, and Valencia wonders where all this backbone was when they were together. Besides the time he stood up to her about camp, he never really fought back when she run roughshod over him.

 

“Why would I want to? I have a super hot girlfriend and I’m not ashamed of it,” she says, seizing up a little as soon as she realizes what she’s done. She’s used the label, the one they had never directly discussed. But when she glances at Heather, she only sees pride and affection and something… new, something she likes very much. They’re interrupted before she can decipher it.

 

“Whoa,” Hector says and then offers his empty to Heather, who turns to get him a fresh bottle. “Most intimidating couple of all time.”

 

“Thank you, Hector.” Valencia smiles at him, mostly teeth, because she knows how much she scares Josh’s friends and she revels in it.

 

WhiJo shudders and salutes Heather with the neck of his bottle. “Good luck with that one, Heather.” And then the guys grab Josh by the arms and lead him back to the table so they can enjoy the game.

 

Heather grins at Valencia and goes back to her other patrons now that the sideshow is done, while Rebecca enthuses over how chill Valencia was. “You were like a shark, like a woman-loving, coldblooded, killer shark, and it was so empowering to watch! Is this, like, a phenomenon brought on by Heather or by sex with women in general? Maybe I should try it and see. Sex with women, I mean! Not Heather. Not now that she’s got an official _giiiirlfriend_ ,” she croons, nudging Valencia’s side with her elbow.

 

“God, Rebecca,” Valencia says, but she can’t wipe the smile off her face. “And it’s not really Heather or just about having sex with a woman, it’s about… being okay with who I am, who I _really_ am, for the first time maybe in my entire life.”

 

The amusement morphs into astonishment on Rebecca’s face. “Whoa.” They drink in quiet for a few minutes, before she continues, “I’m proud of you, you know. You’ve come a long way since we first met.”

 

“So have you, Rebecca,” Valencia says. When Rebecca tries to deny it, she stops her. “I’m serious. You’ve done a lot of work on yourself since you moved to West Covina. We both still have a lot to do, but you- you should be proud of _you_ , too.”

 

Rebecca sniffs and forces a wobbly smile. “Being in a healthy relationship is totally ruining your whole vibe, you know.”

 

Valencia smiles. “No, it isn’t,” she says with confidence, and Rebecca laughs.

 

Almost the entire bar cheers at the end of the game, so Valencia assumes that means they won. Whoever “they” might be - she’s not even paying enough attention to know what sport is on. But the bar clears out quickly enough that she decides to hang around and talk Heather into coming back to her place for the night once Home Base is closed up.

 

Rebecca left an hour ago since she had a client meeting in the morning. Valencia scrolls mindlessly through Instagram while she waits for Heather to take the garbage out when the front door opens.

 

“We’re closed,” she says, in annoyance without looking up, until whoever it is walks further in. “I said, we’re-” She stops short when she sees it’s Josh and he’s staring at her. “What?”

 

“What does it mean about, you know, us? Now that you’re with Heather?”

 

Valencia locks her phone and slides it into her clutch and turns to face him. “Us? Josh, we’re over. There is no us. I thought you were still seeing that brow girl.”

 

“Anna,” he says, and nods. “I am, but that’s not really what I meant. I just… Did you know when we were together? That you liked women?”

 

“What? Josh, what does it matter?” She shakes her head at him.

 

“It doesn’t, I guess. But could you…” He gestures and she sighs and thinks about how to answer it.

 

“I didn’t consciously, but I think there was a reason that I was fixated on other women’s bodies. I told myself it was a competition, but maybe…” She shrugs and it feels like a helpless gesture. “Maybe that was a rationalization.”

 

“So does this mean that you’re bi? Like Darryl and Heather?” When she stares at him, he shakes his head. “I’m just trying to understand!”

 

“Why do you need to understand? It’s not any of your business anymore!”

 

“Because if…” He sighs. “If what we had for fifteen years was a lie, then I think I should know. I deserve to know, Valencia. You were basically my entire life, since I was a kid, and I didn’t know about this entire part of you.”

 

“Neither did I,” she says, but gently. “I haven’t thought about it enough to say, yes, I am definitely this one thing, but I don’t… I don’t think I’m bi, Josh. I think maybe… I think I’m gay. For a long time, I confused wanting attention from men with attraction to men, and now that I know the difference, I can’t imagine going back.” He looks away. “But that could just be how I feel for Heather clouding it up. It’s a fluid thing, right?” she asks, then touches his arm. “This doesn’t change what we had. It was still terrible.” That gets a laugh out of him and he looks at her again. “And great sometimes. And I’ll always love you with some part of my heart, but I think that chapter of my life is really, truly closed.”

 

Josh nods. “Okay. Okay. That helps.” He hesitates. “So it’s… I mean, you and Heather, it’s serious?”

 

The realization rolls over her. “It is,” she says, breathless, and it’s true. She wants to be with Heather - always. She… she loves Heather.

 

“Good. That’s good.” Josh smiles and fidgets where he stands. “I feel like I want to hug you, but I also think it might be weird.”

 

Valencia closes the space between them and lets him wrap her up in his arms.

 

He turns his head and whispers, “Be happy,” in her ear and her eyes sting.

 

“You, too.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Valencia keeps her realization close for days. She’s not really sure what to do with it - the last time she confessed her love for someone, she was in high school. There are rules about it in adult relationships, right? You’re supposed to play it safe and keep cool and not show you care. She vaguely remembers her mom playing some Joni Mitchell song that said that and it sounded so sad to Valencia when she was a kid.

 

It feels sad now, when she bites back the words as stars burst behind her eyes and her heart races. Heather flops onto the bed beside her, smile a little smug, but Valencia can’t deny she’s earned it. She’s a quivering pile of goo right now, all because of Heather but it’s only half to do with the orgasm and the rest is the crest of emotion rising up in her.

 

She catches her breath and curls into Heather’s side, nosing her cheek until Heather turns and kisses her. It feels charged with emotion, but Valencia can’t be sure, not totally, that’s it’s not all on her side. But if the rosy glow of an orgasm made her almost confess, maybe it’d push Heather to do the same?

 

Her lips make their way down Heather’s neck and chest, quieting Heather’s moan of discontent when she keeps moving by pressing wet kisses to her stomach. Heather tenses then and stops Valencia. “You don’t have to,” she says, but Valencia hears the eager excitement behind it. They haven’t done this, either of them, because it almost seems too intimate. A line neither one of them wanted to cross when it was just messing around.

 

“I never have before, so it might be terrible,” Valencia warns, but she smiles against the warm skin beneath her cheek, delighting in the flex of muscles. “But I want to.”

 

“Hang on a second.” Heather stretches over to the nightstand and grabs something that she presses into Valencia’s hand.

 

Valencia grins and uses the elastic to pull her hair back and then rubs her hands over Heather’s stomach. “Ready? Tell me if I do something wrong.” And with that, she parts Heather’s thighs and moves lower.

 

It’s always a little jarring to Valencia, how sexy she finds bodyparts that she used to only pay attention to in order to criticize. But Heather’s thighs, with their sleek muscles and gleaming dark skin, the way they fit together with her own… Valencia has found a lot of reasons to love them. Now, she showcases that affection with her hands and mouth, her worship having the added goal of driving Heather crazy.

 

And it is - she can see it and smell it, which honestly was one of her concerns, but not now. Now her mouth _waters_ as she works her way up, starting with her hands and following with her mouth.

 

It’s not perfect but Heather is vocal with her desires and Valencia can’t imagine going the rest of her life without the taste and feel of the woman she loves surrounding her.

 

After, Valencia isn’t quite sure what to do, but Heather pulls her up with urgent hands and kisses her, deep and hard. When they part, they’re still breathless and Heather laughs, a light, giddy sound, while she lays back against the bed, arm thrown over her eyes.

 

Valencia curls up beside her again, heart pounding, waiting for the moment, the one where Heather turns to her and says it. But the moment never comes and the afterglow dims as the air in the room cools.

 

Heather uncovers face and moves her arm over her head, pulling her chest taut in front of Valencia’s eyes, but she can’t even appreciate the visual. “What’s wrong?” Heather asks, leaning up a little. “You look upset. Did you want me to reciprocate?”

 

“No. Well, obviously at some point, I’d love that, but no. It’s nothing.” Valencia closes her eyes and tries to shake off the disappointment, the- the _embarrassment_ of being the vulnerable one in the relationship.

 

Heather’s fingers touch the side of her face, pushing back a few strands of hair that have come loose from her ponytail. “It’s obviously not nothing.”

 

Frustration rises in Valencia. “Then maybe I’m just not ready to talk about it,” she snaps, pulling back so they’re no longer touching. She finds the sheet where they’d kicked it earlier in the night and covers herself, but it doesn’t help with the chill she’s starting to feel inside.

 

“Whoa, okay. I don’t know who you think you’re talking to, but I’m not down for getting my head bitten off after mating.” Heather quirks a brow and sits up, unabashed at her own nudity, and Valencia has to look away. No one should be allowed to be so self-possessed. “You know you can talk to me about anything. I’m not going to judge you.”

 

And the thing is, she does know that. She knows with certainty that if she told Heather right now that she loved her, Heather would be kind whether she felt the same or not. But it’s the “or not” that terrifies Valencia, and it’s that which makes her say, “I think you should leave.”

 

Heather stays quiet for a minute and then sighs. “Fine. I’m not gonna fight with you about nothing.” She climbs out of bed and throws her clothes on, and before she walks out she pauses and says, “Call me when you decide you wanna have this conversation.” And then she’s gone.

 

And Valencia is alone. Again.

 

With no one to blame but herself.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

She doesn’t cry - she wants to, so much that her eyes ache with the effort of holding the tears back, but hold them back she does. She doesn’t deserve to cry, she doesn’t deserve to be sad. She caused this and she has to live with the consequences.

 

Rebecca calls a few times over the next few days, but Valencia lets it go to voicemail. Frankly, she’d rather not have Rebecca meddling between them, especially not when her loyalties will most likely end up with Heather, who is not only her roommate, but her friend first.

 

So there’s another thing she’s lost that she doesn’t allow herself to mourn.

 

It’s while she’s steadfastly Not Mourning that she gets a visitor. The shock of finding Josh on her doorstep nearly breaks her funk, but when he gives her a sheepish smile and says, “Becks called me,” another wave of Not Grief swallows her.

 

Valencia turns on her heel without inviting him in, but he takes the open door as his cue and follows her inside. “She shouldn’t have asked you to get involved.” She sits on the couch and curls her knees up, trying to make herself as small as she feels.

 

“She didn’t. I came because I wanted to,” Josh says, and she believes him. Josh’s empathy for others has never known any bounds. He sits to face her. “She said that you and Heather were fighting or not talking or that something was up and neither one of you would tell her what.” Valencia jerks one shoulder and looks away. “The last time we talked, you said you guys were getting serious. What happened?”

 

“Maybe it just ran its course,” she says, something she’s being trying to convince herself. _It was just a rebound, never meant to be serious. It went as far as it needed to_. The words sound as hollow out loud as they did in her head.

 

Josh makes an annoyed sound. “Come on, Valencia. I know you better than that. What happened? If you don’t tell me, I’ll start guessing.” She stays silent. “Okay, you asked for it. Did she use your fancy body wash without asking permission first?”

 

Valencia rolls her eyes; _one time_ she yelled at him for that and now he acts like she’s a body wash hoarder.

 

“No? Maybe she bought you the wrong kind of coconut oil and now you have an entire tub you can’t do anything with?” She laughs a little with him about that one. “Or she got you a matcha latte instead of just matcha with water and you think she’s trying to make you fat?” She kicks at him, but he grabs her foot and keeps going. “Or she machine washed your silky, dry-clean-only romper?”

 

“Enough!” Valencia cries, but she’s smiling. “God, I was really horrible to you, wasn’t I?” He doesn’t dispute it and she sobers. “Was I really that bad?”

 

“Sometimes,” he says, averting his eyes. “Mostly near the end. I just felt like I couldn’t do anything right. Or at least that nothing I did was up to your standards. That’s one of the things that always attracted me to Rebecca - she admired me so much and appreciated me and it just...” He shakes his head. “But that’s not why I’m here.”

 

Valencia sits up. “No, wait. I’m sorry, Josh. I know- I know I was hard on you, maybe more than usual after Rebecca came to town. But it wasn’t anything you did. It was me.” She frowns. “It’s always me, ruining everything good in my life.”

 

Josh looks back at her. “I’m sorry, this wasn’t what I came over for. I don’t want to make you feel worse. I just wanted to help you, to find out if you were okay.” The corner of his mouth turns up. “Now who’s the ruiner?”

 

She sighs. “Still me. I- You were right. Heather and I were serious. Very serious. At least on my end.”

 

“And she didn’t feel the same?” His face scrunches in confusion for a minute, but when she avoids his eyes, he makes a sound of comprehension. “Oh, you didn’t tell her how you felt. That’s the issue.”

 

Valencia groans and turns onto her side.

 

“Valencia,” he says, voice chiding, “I’ve never known you to be afraid of going after what you want.”

 

“Yeah, well, I changed.” She knows she sounds like a petulant child and rolls her eyes. “That sounds trite, but I’m serious. What happened with us… I don’t ever want to be hurt like that again.”

 

“I get that. But don’t you remember how good it was once between us?” Josh smiles at her. “Don’t you want to feel love like that again, or maybe something even better? Isn’t it worth the chance of getting hurt?”

 

She thinks about all the firsts she and Josh shared, fifteen years of highs and lows, and she wouldn’t trade a second of it, no matter how heartbroken she was in the end. Then she thinks about the time she’s spent with Heather - not enough - and how much it’s meant to her - everything - and she _knows_.

 

A couple of months of good memories with Heather aren’t enough; she wants to make more so if she does ever get her heart broken again - in fifteen years or five years or even five months - it will have all been worth it.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

It’s not exactly like it is in the movies. For one, it isn’t raining, and also she doesn’t run. She could - she’s in excellent shape - but she doesn’t want to be all sweaty when she sees Heather for the first time in almost a week.

 

She hesitates at the doorway, even though she already knows Heather is home - she conspired with Rebecca to be sure and so Rebecca would know to clear out.

 

And Valencia should’ve known better, because just as she goes to knock, the door swings open and there’s Rebecca. “Oh, Valencia! What a surprise!” she says, not at all convincing, as she grabs Valencia by the arm and drags her inside. Heather is standing in the kitchen with a carton of orange juice and Valencia feels her nerves settle as soon as they lock eyes. She’s missed her so much, she can’t believe it took her this long to reach out.

 

“Valencia, I was just telling Heather that I have to go into the office for some paperwork, but you guys should talk or whatever. I don’t want to interfere.”

 

“Goodbye, Rebecca,” Valencia says, never taking her gaze off Heather, and with some more hammed-up excuses, Rebecca’s out the door. “I know I didn’t call, but I thought it’d mean more if we talked in person.”

 

“Whatever,” Heather says with a shrug, the thin strap of her cotton sleep camisole sliding down her shoulder. Valencia wonders how much she’ll have to grovel before they can go back to enjoying the warmth of the bed Heather has very clearly just recently left. “Does this mean you’re ready to tell me about the stick up your ass the other night?”

 

Valencia rolls her eyes and steels her reserve. “Yeah, it’s just that I- when we started this- I mean… The thing is,” she manages slowly, blowing out a breath, “I love you. LIke capital-F, fancy calligraphy, bolded and underlined, **_Feelings_ ** , love you.”

 

Heather stares at her for a tortuous beat before she smiles. “Cool. I thought that might be it.”

 

“You..” Valencia blinks. “Wait- what?”

 

“I mean, yeah. It was kind of obvious. I capital-F and all those other things **_Feelings_ ** love you, too,” Heather says, like it’s not an earth-shattering revelation, and takes a drink of her juice.

 

“You- you do?”

 

“Did you not know?” Now it’s Heather’s turn to blink in amazement. “I thought it was pretty obvious and you told me that you, you know, knew where to look.” Valencia just shakes her head. “Sorry. I thought you’d saw how I felt, realized you might feel the same, and freaked out. It’s kind of a pattern with me,” she says with a frown, then shrugs again. “I didn’t know it was because you thought you were the only one.”

 

“It’s fine, I’m just…” A laugh bubbles out of Valencia. “I’m just so _relieved_. I’m so sorry, Heather. I’m sorry I snapped at you and I’m sorry that I use anger to hide vulnerability and I wish I could promise it won’t happen again. But…” She bites her lip. “All I can promise is that I’m working on it. And that I love you. And I want the good memories that we haven’t made yet.”

 

“That works for me,” Heather says. “And I will work on making sure I don’t take it for granted that you know what I’m thinking all the time. For instance… I’m happy you worked up the courage to come by today and tell me that. It means a lot that you’re willing to be vulnerable with me, because I know you trust me and I can trust you.”

 

Valencia waits for the moment when Heather runs over and kisses her dramatically, but it never comes. Instead, Heather finishes off her juice and rinses out her cup, and it’s a little anticlimactic for Valencia, this love-confessing stuff.

 

At least, it was, until Heather skims her cami up over her head and throws it towards Valencia, strolling towards the bathroom wearing her boy shorts and a teasing smile. “I need a shower, buddy.” She tilts her head back and says, “That was an invitation, in case I wasn’t clear.”

 

Valencia, already halfway out of her skirt, follows her down the hall.

**Author's Note:**

> come talk to me on [tumblr](itsactuallycorrine.tumblr.com)!


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